


Nothing Happens in Silverton

by rowritesbrainrot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Art Student Keith (Voltron), College, College Student Keith (Voltron), College Student Lance (Voltron), Coran and Allura own a coffee shop, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Psychology Student Lance, Small Towns, Yes you heard me right, it’s called altean brews, i’m so sorry to people who actually live in silverton, lance is a nude model, lance works there too, sort of forks vibes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowritesbrainrot/pseuds/rowritesbrainrot
Summary: If there is one thing that Lance McClain is sure of, it’s that he is not a shy person. He tends to think that he has never been sheepish, and that he never will be. Nobody would expect him to live in a dead-end town where everybody changed everybody else’s diapers. Lance is the type of person who feeds on a crowd, after all.If there is one thing Keith Kogane is sure of, it’s that he is not a people-person. He hates the prying of unwanted eyes, and he definitely hates talking to others he isn’t close to. Why bother getting to know someone if you’re never going to need that information again? This is why his dead-end excuse for a hometown is so perfect for him. There’s never a lot going on, and he can usually get away with keeping to himself.That is until he meets a certain Cuban boy who works in his favorite coffee shop. He finds himself constantly being cornered by the kid, even when he does his best to avoid him. And the worst part?He actually sort of enjoys it.
Relationships: Allura & Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Nothing Happens in Silverton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance is a goofball, old friends prepare to unite, and Keith is a panicky gay.

On the eternally rain-slicked, completely regular streets of Silverton, Oregon, one would not expect to find anything out of the ordinary. Small-town life takes on a whole new meaning inside the city’s limits. Time seems to drag by outstandingly slow under the cloudy cover of grey that hangs in the sky. In fact, over the course of the last decade and a half, the most interesting thing to happen was whenever Mrs. Pineville took her husband to court on charges of spousal abuse. It caused such a stir in the town, that  _ Mr _ . Pineville couldn’t walk down the street without earning a rightful side-eye from anyone he passed. But that was fifteen years ago. Now, there is no other way to describe Silverton than violently boring.

And as Lance McClain sits inside of Chem Lab C of Silverton Community College, this realization punches him in the face. The monotonous voice of his professor at the front of the otherwise silent room is definitely not helping. He’s currently rambling on about hydrogen bonds, but Lance is certain that you could not  _ bribe him _ to pay attention. Over the last few minutes, he has become aware of the dull buzzing of fluorescent lights, the muted clicking of a clock, and the gentle tapping of several student’s shoes as they bounce their legs out of habit. Everything except for the lecture. 

It’s not as if he doesn’t  _ like _ Chemistry. In fact, he actually finds it quite interesting. The way that the elements combine and meld together to form compounds has always piqued Lance’s curiosity. When he was in high school, he would ask what felt like a thousand questions a day in his Chem 1 class, much to the annoyance of his teacher.  _ But exactly how small are these things? Is there anything smaller than an atom? How does the nucleus pull in the electrons like that? Where does the energy released by a nuclear bomb come from?  _ Something about the sheer unfathomability of atoms and chemical reactions made the wheels in his head turn. And although he did his fair share of goofing off, at his core it interested him. He may have blown a few spitballs on the whiteboard, but it was all in good fun. 

The problem he has with his  _ college  _ Chemistry class is this: it is taught by a stuffy sounding, insufferably boring, incredibly dry-eyed professor. Nothing makes a class worse than a teacher who doesn’t know how to live a little bit. In fact, Lance could swear that his love for Chemistry has been all but stamped out...

“McClain.  _ McClain.”  _

Lance snaps to attention, his eyes flickering through the room until they rest on Professor Sherwood’s face. 

“Yes?” 

After his response, he cocks one eyebrow. A muffled chuckle escapes his lab partner.

Sherwood sighs, as if he could not be any more belabored. “Is there something  _ funny _ ?” 

A mischievous glint has appeared in Lance’s eyes. There’s  _ no way _ that he can turn this opportunity down.

“Not really, just that I can’t help but be reminded of that scene is  _ Ferris Bueller’s Day Off  _ whenever the teacher is all like,” he pauses, screwing his face into some semblance of snootiness. Then, in his most accurate rendition of the iconic line: 

“‘Bueller.  _ Bueller.’” _

Across the room, a few students cover their mouth in order to stifle a laugh. 

“And you were all like,” the nasally voice returns, “‘McClain.  _ McClain.’”  _

Sherwood sighs again, but this time he pairs it with an intimidating-arms-crossed-over-the-chest-menacingly pose. “May I continue with my lecture without you making a reference to a movie filmed and released before you were even  _ born _ , Mr. McClain?” 

Lance raises his hands in an innocent gesture. “By all means.” 

Both of his hands move to rest behind his head, supporting his neck as he leans back into his chair. He can’t help but be amused by the fact that his seemingly educated professor was just completely sidetracked by his ruse. Apparently, he no longer is interested in what he called Lance’s name for in the first place. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Lance,” Pidge groans. Currently, she is balancing a bowl of popcorn on her head haphazardly. “For the last time, we are  _ not  _ binge-watching Twilight again.”

A disgruntled noise presses from Lance’s lungs. He lies down on the floor, facing the bed that she is sitting on.

“ _ Piiiiiidge _ ,” he begins, “it just makes  _ sense!  _ I mean think about it. We practically live in Forks, except for the fact that we don’t have a family of eerily hot vamps in town.” 

Sitting beside Pidge is Hunk, who has his phone opened up to a timer. 

“He has a point there,” he adds, only halfway paying attention. His eyes are glued to the phone screen. “We do live in a small town with hella rain.”

Lance snaps his fingers, flailing his limbs wildly until he is pointing directly at Hunk. “See?! It just fits our vibe so well. Plus, who doesn’t wanna watch Taylor Lautner run through the rain  _ shirtless _ ?”

At this, Pidge rolls her eyes. There seems to be a moment where she considers throwing her head back in exasperation, but this thought is quickly deterred by the piece of popcorn that falls out of the bowl when she moves slightly. She glances down at Hunk’s timer and pumps a fist in the air. 

“Listen, that doesn’t sound bad on its own. But when one takes into account the fact that we’ve seen Twilight upwards of a billion times, the idea of watching it again begins to become ludicrous,” she says flatly. Lance crosses his arms over his chest, which makes him seem like a pouting toddler. For effect, he sticks his bottom lip out and makes a sound that is not unlike a whining puppy. 

“Sorry bro,” Hunk says with a shrug, “we can’t stand to watch you recite the entire scene where Bella finds out she’s pregnant again.” 

“Hey! That’s a talent, if you ask me!” Lance snaps. Suddenly, he clears his throat, getting into character.

“ _ I don’t know, I’m a little worried, can vampires go into shock?”  _ he quotes in a girlish voice. He whips his head to the side, shifting his entire body as if he is taking up the place of another person. 

“ _ Has Edward been harmed!?”  _ he says dramatically, cupping a hand around his mouth to impersonate a voice over a telephone call. His body rotates back into its original position.

“ _ No _ .” he pauses, allowing time for his face to suddenly become overwhelmed with a flurry of over-expressive emotions. “ _ I know that it’s impossible, but I think that I’m pregnant! _ ” 

“Oh my. He’s worse than I thought,” Pidge whispers loudly enough for him to hear. Hunk shakes his head. 

“There’s no hope for recovery,” he sighs. 

“Damn straight!” Lance snaps. A burst of laughter erupts from Pidge, causing her to lose balance. The bowl of popcorn begins to tip over, but Hunk quickly snatches it off of its perch. 

“Wow, you sure are passionate,” she says with one eyebrow raised. 

Lance smirks mischievously. “Again, damn straight!” 

Hunk has stopped staring at his phone screen and is now shuffling through movies on the flat screen TV, which is hung on the opposite wall. 

“Seriously,” he begins, “what should we watch?” 

“You guys already know my vote,” Lance says, propping his feet up against the bed. “What about you, pidgeon?”

“I mean, why don’t we try something new?” she suggests. “I feel like we’re always rewatching the same movies.” Hunk hums in agreement.

“What’s even out right now?” he asks. 

“I actually have no clue.”

“Guys,” Lance chimes in, “how about we watch Mean Girls!” 

Pidge’s expression screws up into confusion. “I thought you wanted to watch Twilight.” 

He makes a dismissive gesture with his hands, waving off the thought. “No no, I changed my mind. Mean Girls would absolutely _slap_ right now.” 

Hunk shrugs in response. “I’m not objecting.” 

“Alright, fine,” Pidge sighs. Seemingly out of nowhere, her face pinches up and she snaps her fingers together. “Oh! Before we get started, I need to tell you guys something.” 

“What’s up?” Hunk questions as he rifles through the popcorn bowl. 

“First, you two have to promise that you won’t think that I’m abandoning you or anything,” she says through gritted teeth. The boys exchange glances, and Lance flashes her a thumbs up. 

“Ok,” she begins with a heavy breath, “I may not be able to hang out next week-”

Hunk has begun to form the beginnings of a protest, but he is quickly muffled by Pidge’s hand over his mouth. 

“You didn’t let me  _ finish _ ,” she practically snarls. “Anyways, what I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” she continues with a sideways glance at Hunk, “is that I have an old family friend moving back into town. I’m helping them unpack. That’s why I’ll be busy.” 

Lance raises his eyebrows and nods his head in interest. “Huh. Who is it?” 

“You don’t know him,” she responds. 

“ _ Ooooooh _ , I see how it is. It’s a  _ him _ .”

Daggers fly from Pidge’s copper eyes. “You know me better than that. Keith is just a good family friend. Him and his brother Shiro have been close with Matt and I since I can remember,” she says.

“Why can’t you just ask  _ him _ to hang out with us?” Hunk questions. He nudges her arm at “him,” causing her to pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She adjusts her glasses menacingly and scoffs before responding.

“If you were to meet Keith, I don’t think that you would be asking that question.”

“What makes you say that?” he asks. 

She pretends to stroke a phantom beard in mock contemplation. “Well, how should I put this...he’s not exactly the, shall I say,  _ social _ type.” 

Lance squints his eyes, cocking his head to the side knowingly. “Ah, I see. Good ‘ol Keith is a  _ loner _ .”

“For lack of a better word, yes, Keith could be classified as a ‘loner.’”

“You should still invite him to hang with us, though,” Hunk says. “We’re probably gonna end up around him anyways if you guys are friends.”

Pidge shrugs her shoulders. “Ya, I guess. Once he’s settled in we can talk about it.” 

“Oh! I know what you should do,” Lance blurts out, “invite him to Altean Brews and we can introduce ourselves over some of that righteous coffee of theirs.” 

“That’s...actually a really good idea. I’m surprised that you were helpful for once, my hyper latino child,” Pidge coos, patting him on the head playfully.

“Hey! I’m helpful most of the time, I’ll have you know.” 

A scoff escapes Hunk. “Ya, right. If I recall correctly, the last time I asked for your advice you told me to, and I quote, ‘trust your natural instincts unless those instincts are bad.’” He embellishes with air quotes. 

“Ok, fine, I  _ may _ have said that. But that was a mere moment of weakness in the big picture of ‘Lance: the most helpful dude in town.’” 

Pidge and Hunk exchange rather judgemental glances. 

“Let’s just start the movie, ‘most helpful dude in town,’” the latter says flatly. Lance turns around with a groan, leaning his back against the bed. 

  
  


* * *

Keith has always loved the rain.

Something about the smell of wet pavement through the humidity of a new day always brings him back down to earth. The wind whipping around him carries the acidic aroma to his nose quite nicely, and it’s a sensation that he hasn’t felt in a long time. It curls around Keith’s body; chilly fingers seeping through his clothes. A shiver runs down his spine, yet he can’t find himself feeling uncomfortable. The constant moisture and chill in the air is far too normal to be a nuisance. 

He’s missed this. The mindless drive into town, and the slick highways that stretch for miles. More than anything, it gives him time to think. And that’s always been something that he’s appreciated about his hometown: there’s always a place that stays calm. Dormant until its next visitor. It’s a rather comforting thought, Keith thinks at least. The idea of escape was far too appealing when he left for college in Texas, which is quite literally the opposite of his destination. It didn’t take long for him to realize that the stereotypical big-city college life wasn’t for him, hence him moving back to where he comes from now. At this moment, Keith questions why he ever left in the first place. So many things make it the perfect place for his personality.

But he always comes back to the rain. 

It reminds him of long walks back home from school. Of burning wood in a fireplace. Of hoodies fresh from the dryer. Of laughter in his heart. Of family. 

_ Family.  _

To be honest, it’s felt like eons. He can’t even remember the last time that he held his niece, or hugged his grandmother. A small smile curves his lips as he imagines her aging hands coming up to cradle a slightly older face, no doubt making some comment about how big he’s gotten and how he needs to cut his hair.

Yes, rain reminds Keith of family. 

But right now, rain reminds him that he’s nearing the city limits of a town often overlooked. A town that he happens to know like the back of his hand: 

_ Silverton, Oregon: Population 10,618. _

Before now, the only visible scenery has been a never ending row of coniferous trees, flanking the sides of the highway tightly. However, he can now make out the worn-down buildings that border the city. Warehouses, corporate offices, and even a couple of outdated skyscrapers rise on the horizon. 

__ Rain. Home. Comfort. 10,618. 

Keith feels a smile begin to tempt the edges of his lips, and he welcomes it gladly. It feels good to be excited about something again. He can’t wait to embrace Shiro and Allura, and he can’t wait to see how big Audrey has gotten. After all, six months is a long time for a baby. It’ll be interesting to see how much she’s changed. 

Outside of his relatives, he also has to admit how much he’s missed the Holts. Sam, Colleen, Matt, and Katie especially acted as a stand-in family for him and Shiro after their parents died. He misses the heated debates that would always occur at the dinner table on obscure topics like light pollution and climbing carbon emissions. Matt and Katie would often go all out and create note cards that they would read off of, and Matt even went so far as to make a PowerPoint one time. Sam and Colleen raised their children to be undeniably competitive, but in the healthiest way possible. 

A sudden burst of chilly air strikes Keith’s face, reminding him that he’s driving down a highway at 70 miles per hour. This newfound sense of awareness brings him to the realization that he’s now inside the city’s limits, and he’s also on a familiar road. After taking two lefts and one right, Keith finds himself parked on the street beside Altean Brews, a popular coffee shop that always draws in a lot of customers. With its cozy atmosphere and ample seating, it’s easy to see how the cafe is so appealing to the local college students. 

Before leaving his dorm in Texas, Keith set up a time with Katie to meet at the Holt Household. Shiro and Allura are also supposed to be there along with the house’s normal inhabitants. However, this aforementioned get-together isn’t for another 30 minutes, so he now has some time to kill. After all, it only takes 5 minutes to get from Altean Brews to the Holt’s, and it won’t hurt to stop by and say hello to Coran. Plus, who knows, Allura may be on her shift at the moment. 

With a small  _ ding,  _ he opens the door and crosses the threshold inside. The scent of coffee instantly overwhelms his senses. All across the walls are pictures that Coran has taken over the years of various customers, along with a few scattered decorations that were obviously chosen by Allura’s keen eye. Tables of multiple shapes and sizes are scattered evenly across the open floor space, with no two pieces being exactly the same. This gives the establishment a homey feel. Presently, the shop is quite busy, and several people are scattered around. They chatter amongst themselves, or sip their beverages silently. Keith does a quick eye-sweep of the room before he notices that Coran is perched on top of a barstool, animatedly talking to a regular customer. Upon seeing the new arrival, Coran smoothly dismisses himself and begins walking towards Keith. His arms are held out widely, almost as if he is welcoming the prodigal son back to the homestead. Keith finds himself chuckling at this classic display of Coran’s personality. Once the two have reached each other, the older man pulls the younger into a generous embrace. They clap one another on the back a few times before separating. 

“You just couldn’t bear to stay away, could ya?” Coran chirps.

“Nope, I guess I couldn’t,” Keith responds with a smile.

“I’ll tell you what, mate,” Coran begins in his odd accent that nobody can ever seem to place, “We’ve really missed you around here.”

Keith shrugs. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Glad to hear it. Alright, ma’boy, why don’t you go order yourself something to drink? It’ll be on the house of course,” Coran says.

“That sounds really good right now, actually,” Keith states gratefully, “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem! Especially for my favorite customer,” Coran says with an eyebrow waggle. “Lance!” he calls, turning his head towards the counter, “Come take this lad’s order! He’s our special guest for the day!”

The double-doors behind the long, bar-like counter open up slowly to reveal the employee that Coran had summoned. Lance.

_ Wow. _

The skin that isn’t being covered by his clothes is a deep olive color, and it seems to shine under the cafe’s warm overhead lighting. His hair is an ashy chestnut brown and wavy, and it too has a reflective quality. However, these already attractive features pale in comparison to what Keith noticed as soon as his gaze fell upon Lance’s face: his eyes are the most striking, deep, mysterious blue shade that he’s ever seen. Most books will describe blue eyes as being clear and bright, but this is not the case for the boy who just walked out of the back room of Altean Brews. 

Keith only has about 2 seconds to process all of this before Coran is leading him towards the counter. Once they reach the cash register, Keith realizes that he’s going to be forced to speak. Lance is looking at him expectantly with those penetrating eyes.

“What’ll it be, ‘special guest of the day?’” he says in a smooth, almost  _ flirty _ , tone. Then, he flashes the cheesiest, brightest, most  _ gorgeous,  _ smile that Keith thinks that the earth has ever seen.

_ This is the part where I have to respond,  _ he thinks. His brain feels way too fuzzy to come up with a coherent response. Besides, he’s currently focused on fending off the blush steadily rising in his cheeks.

“I’ll take the uh- do you guys have any- no, actually- gosh, I haven’t been here for so long- man, so many options-” 

He cuts himself off, realizing that his efforts of speaking are becoming quite futile, and looks to his right towards Coran. Maybe he’ll be able to detect Keith’s struggle. 

It takes a few seconds of awkward eye contact before Coran seems to realize what’s going on. “Oh!” he shouts, “He’ll just have a medium black coffee. Ethiopian roast. Chop chop!” As Lance is shooed back into the kitchen, Coran drags Keith by the elbow towards a vacant table. He’s careful to stay out of the oblivious, and now rather confused, employee’s earshot. 

“Keith,” he begins in a low whisper, “you’ve got the hots for Lance, don’t you?”

“ _ Coran, _ ” Keith hisses, “you don’t have to say it like  _ that _ .”

“That’s a yes!” Coran practically squeals, but Keith is quick to smack a hand over his mouth.

“ _ Shhhhhh _ !” he snarls, dropping his hand cautiously.

“Oh. Right,” Coran mumbles shamefully. “So...are you gonna say anything to him?”

“ _ Hell _ no!”

Coran’s expression immediately becomes crestfallen. “C’mon, Keith! You gotta start talking to the boys in town. And trust me when I tell you that there aren’t many to choose from. Lance is a rare exception, given that he’s both interesting and-” he pauses briefly, his face scrunching up as he searches for the right terminology, “nice to look at, I guess you could say.”

Keith considers this for a moment. However, Coran is forgetting one vital detail. “Is he even...y’know…”

Realization crosses the older man’s face, followed by a furrowing of his eyebrows. “Are you really that oblivious?”

“Uh, I guess,” Keith begins with a shrug, “I’m not quite sure what you’re getting at.”

“He was obviously flirting with you, did you see his  _ smile?”  _ Coran says with a girlish giggle. 

“Well,” Keith starts, “something tells me that he’s like that with everyone.”

Coran cocks an eyebrow, tilts his head to the side, and nods at an angle. “Touché.”

“Knew it.”

“You have to understand that that’s just how Lance is, though. He’s very...outgoing. And charming. And extroverted. Pretty much the exact opposite of you, actually.”

“Thanks, Coran. That just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

“You’re welcome, Keith ma’boy. Besides, how could you just ignore that little moment of, er, speechlessness? That type of embarrassment doesn’t just come from a tiny little attraction.”

“Look,” Keith says, becoming visibly agitated, “it’s not my fault that- that-  _ he-  _ did you see his eyes?- and that  _ hair-”  _

__ Coran’s gaze seems to have shifted slightly behind Keith’s head. One of his hands is cleverly attempting to stifle a laugh. 

“What now-” Keith growls, beginning to whip around in his chair.

There, standing wide-eyed just behind his right shoulder, is Lance. Keith forces himself to tear his gaze away from the eerily deep eyes. The unstoppable flush seems to have jumped back to life. 

After clearing his throat at an unnecessary volume, Lance sets a steaming coffee cup down on the table. He swallows hard, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. Keith observes that this does weird things to his insides. “N- Need anything else?”

“No!” Keith quickly wheezes, being careful not to sound too harsh. 

“Alrighty then!” Lance chirps, his suave attitude already back neatly in place. Once he’s out of earshot, Coran allows his mouth to open slightly with a muted  _ pop.  _

“ _ What _ .”

“You’re hopeless,” Coran states matter-of-factly. Keith spends the next few minutes decidedly not talking to his company, but rather people-watching some of the locals. He immediately recognizes some college-age students as kids he went to highschool with. Others seem like newcomers. However, one thing is absolutely certain: these students don’t hold a candle to Keith’s latest discovery. None of them are as downright  _ beautiful  _ as Lance. In fact, although only having exchanged a few words with him, Keith recognizes that his thoughts are currently being filled up with images of the boy. He can’t seem to get those eyes out of his consciousness. They struck him like the weight of an entire ocean, delving into the deepest parts of him. In a particularly weak moment, he catches himself wondering how that golden brown skin under his sweater would look. Lance did seem to be pretty well built… 

At some point during Keith’s mindless daydreaming, Coran leaves his post to greet somebody at the door. This isn’t really out of the ordinary; it’s what he always does. However, Keith finds himself paying special attention when he hears the voice that is now chatting with Coran. It sounds familiar, but slightly more old and full-bodied. He twists his body around to see Matt Holt making small talk with the shop’s owner. 

“Keith! What’re you waiting for!” Coran calls, waving the former over with a sweeping motion. 

He quickly rises from his seat, crossing the room in a few long strides. Once he reaches Matt, the two pull each other into a rather violently platonic hug, which is immediately followed by a firm handshake. Keith would expect nothing less from an older-brother figure. The two boys, now face to face, smile broadly at each other.

“It’s been a while, Mr. College Man!” Matt taunts with a nudge to Keith’s shoulder.

The latter rolls his eyes. “Good to see you too, Matt.” Keith’s eyes scan the shop for a quick moment. “Are the others back at the house?”

Matt nods. “Yes, they actually sent me here to grab some pastries for the party. I’m guessing you want the usual?”

“Yes,” Keith says fondly, knowing exactly what his ‘usual’ is. “I hope I’m not holding anyone up.”

“Nah, they’re fine. They’re not expecting you for another-” Matt takes a quick glance at his watch, “-fifteen minutes.”

Suddenly, Coran is clapping the both of them on the backs harshly. 

“I’ll go grab those pastries for ya, Matt! I’m guessing it’s gonna be a dozen profiteroles and a slice of passion fruit pie?” he says with a wink in Keith’s direction at that last part. Coran clearly hasn’t forgotten his favorite dessert. Matt snaps his fingers together and makes a sweeping motion towards the kitchen. Before starting towards his destination, Coran seems to open up his mouth, think better of what he’s about to say, and bring his teeth back together with a resounding  _ clack _ . “I’ll have those right out!”

It only takes him a few long strides to reach the kitchen. Once he’s out of the other two men’s sight, he lets out a high-pitched whistle, almost as if he is calling a dog. From the cash register, Lance snaps to attention and saunters over to Coran’s position inside of the kitchen. Given his relatively unperturbed expression, Keith guesses that this is a frequent occurrence. Just as he’s starting to look at Lance for what is perhaps an unacceptable time, Matt waves a large hand in his face.

“Earth to Keith? Hello?” he sniggers. Keith blinks his eyes a few times and turns to his friend with a smile.

“What’s up?”

Matt gives him his signature ‘stop-acting-oblivious-and-tell-me-what’s-up’ look, and Keith lets out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Matt widens his eyes in anticipation. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” Keith mutters. 

“Well, if it’s not a big deal then it shouldn’t be hard for you to tell me, right?” Matt counters cleverly. Keith finds himself cursing family debate nights. He tries to come up with a response that won’t give him away too much. 

“What do you know about that guy who works at the register?”

Matt puts a hand on his chin. “D’ymean Lance? Scrawny kid, brown hair, tan, blue eyes?” 

Keith simply nods in response. Matt eyes him suspiciously before continuing. 

“Ya, I’ve actually known him a long time. He’s a friend of Pidge’s.” 

This new information has Keith stumped. He’s relatively certain that he would have remembered Lance if he had gone to high school with him, so when did Katie meet him? “I guess she met him in college, then, right?” he asks.

“Yup,” Matt confirms, “but he’s always lived here. He just went to high school in the next town over because it’s closer to where his dad works.”

“Gotcha,” Keith says slowly, mulling this idea over. He’s still shocked that he hadn’t noticed Lance at some point, given how much he seems to….stand out.

Matt still isn’t satisfied. “Why did you want to know about Lance?”

“Well,” Keith begins, but as soon as he is about to come up with some last minute lie, Coran is there with Matt’s order in hand. 

“Thanks!” Matt says, reaching into his back pocket to pull out is assumed to be his wallet. Coran waves his hands around and makes a few various squawking noises. 

“It’s on the house for today!” he beams. 

“Are you sure? I hate to-”

“Eh bep bep bep! Not another word!” Coran sings, placing a finger over Matt’s lips. The latter simply huffs loudly and rolls his eyes before giving into Coran’s wish. 

“Fine. But I owe you, old man!” Matt taunts.

“Hah! Not a chance, whippersnapper!” Coran counters, in a manner that is painfully true to character. 

Matt makes his way towards the door, but stops right before exiting. “Keith! I hope you know that I fully expect you to spill the beans whenever I see you at the house!” he hollers over his shoulder. 

“Ya,” Keith snorts, “whatever you say, Mattie.” He figured that his I’ve-known-you-since-you-still-used-to-believe-in-Santa card would come in handy. 

“Wow. Hilarious, Keith. I didn’t realize that we were still in 5th grade,” Matt chuckles, backing into the door in a manner that makes it easy for him to exit. 

For extra flare, Keith sticks his tongue out dramatically. Beside him, Coran giggles, snapping him to attention. 

“I remember when you two were just a couple of rowdy teenagers,” he muses. “Even though Matt was a little older, you two were always close. Granted, a lot of that is probably due to Shiro I assume.”

Keith nods absentmindedly. He supposes that would be true. Shiro always has been the glue that holds the Holts and Koganes together. Now that he’s thinking about his brother, Keith realizes that he should probably begin moving towards the aforementioned get-together. “I think I’m gonna start heading out.”

“Alrighty! Oh, and,” Coran says, dropping his voice to a whisper, “if you ever want me to work my match-making magic on you and Lance, I’m here.”

Telling Coran about Keith’s initial attraction to Lance was probably not the smartest move.

“Ya, right,” he responds. Keith moves towards his table to pick up his half-empty cup and jacket. He pulls the soft leather over his frame, the snugness of the sleeves cradling him nicely. “See you around,” he says warmly as a final farewell. 

“Come back tomorrow!” Coran coos.

It only takes Keith a few seconds to be out of the door and onto his bike, coffee cup securely wedged in between his thighs. He draws his hair into a short ponytail in order to make putting on his helmet easier, and whenever he accidentally glances into the window of Altean Brews, a certain blue-eyed cashier boys quickly turns away. 

**Author's Note:**

> twt and ig: @tcshikun


End file.
